Neal Simon: Roll on, Bob Dylan

More than 30 years have passed. Maybe it's too late for an apology. All the same, I owe one to Bob Dylan.

Neal Simon

More than 30 years have passed. Maybe it's too late for an apology. All the same, I owe one to Bob Dylan.

Bob (Dylan fans are on a first name basis, most feel like he's a family member) is still writing and performing. His 35th studio album, "Tempest," was released earlier this month to solid reviews. The disk, featuring 10 original songs including "Roll on John" — a tribute to John Lennon — is proof the bard from Hibbing, Minn., remains a vital and relevant recording artist at age 71.

It is not just a matter of survival. Yes, Bob has outlasted his contemporaries. Most are gone: Elvis (actually a semi-contemporary) and Lennon. Hendrix and the Beatles. Bob's alive, both literally and figuratively. Still creating and inspiring. Still questioning and influencing.

Look no further than the 2011 Grammy Awards show, when Mumford and Sons was given the opportunity to perform with the folk legend. It was a joyous, spontaneous session with the young folk artists obviously awed to be on stage and performing with a legend.

The times are ever changing, and Bob Dylan's longevity on the pop music scene is owed in large part to his refusal to stay in one place musically. And believe me, the fans have not always been willing to move along. Bob was booed by his folk music worshipers when he "went electric" at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival.

Gonna change my way of thinking
Make myself a different set of rules
Gonna put my good foot forward
And stop being influenced by fools. (Dylan)

From acoustic folk, to protest music, to electric rock, to the blues, country and gospel, Bob has moved from one genre to the next: like a bee collecting pollen and nectar from flowers, his song is the honey that captivates millions of fans.

I saw Bob Dylan on stage for the first time in 1975 at the Niagara Falls Convention Center. I went with most of my brothers and sisters. We dressed up like hippies as if we were attending a costume party! Bob was on tour with the Rolling Thunder Revue, supporting the "Desire" album. I remember his duets with Joan Baez on his classic protest songs and it was the first time I heard the song "Isis" performed, so memorable in large part because of gypsy violinist Scarlet Rivera's haunting accompaniment.

I attended a great show by Bob at Memorial Auditorium in 1979 with my high school friends and caught up with him again in the late 90s at HSBC Arena (with my future wife) and was treated to another outstanding concert.

But the night this column is about fell between those two shows.

Kleinhans Music Hall in Buffalo. April 30, 1980. Dylan had "moved on again," this time to "Born Again" Christian music. He opened the show with a song I have grown to love, "Gotta Serve Somebody" from the "Slow Train Coming" album. His playlist that night also featured several songs from his 1980 release, "Saved."

I had never been to a "rock" concert like this. I remember the lobby of the hall was filled with people in wheelchairs. Dozens of chairs were pushed up the aisles. There was definitely an undercurrent of a tent revival, with Dylan's music somehow having the power to heal. I don't know any other way to describe it. There were no old songs. No hint of the Bob that spoke for a generation during the chaotic 1960s. Where was "Like a Rolling Stone" and "Tangled up in Blue"? Was this a repudiation of all that had come before? If this was his answer after a half a lifetime of questions, I wasn't open to hearing it.

But that's the thing about Bob. He is unconcerned with expectations — whether they are held by the critics or his "fans." It was like he was saying, "I'm going to explore a new path, cut a new trail, come along and we'll learn something together on this journey."

I was too stupid or closed-minded to accept the invitation. And like those fools in Newport in 1965, I made my displeasure clear. I walked out. Left the concert at about the halfway mark, got in my car and drove home.

Now and then there's a fool such as I
Pardon me if I'm sentimental, came to say goodbye
Don't be angry, don't be angry with me, should I cry (Dylan)

I'm sorry, Bob. I regret that I bailed out on this wonderful musical journey you have taken us on. I didn't stay away for long, that's true. When you returned to a message I was more "comfortable" with, I jumped back on the train. I am not proud of what that says about me, but there it is.

I've passed down my love for Bob's music to my children. Middle daughter and I sing "Mr. Tambourine Man" on rides in the car.

I will be buying Tempest sometime soon. I am on the train for the long haul, with no plans to jump off. May it keeping rolling on.

Neal Simon writes for the Hornell, N.Y., Evening Tribune.

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